


Breathe Underwater

by SkySamuelle



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkySamuelle/pseuds/SkySamuelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon is dealing with resurfacing humanity while Bonnie is still learning to shut the anger out. Their POV on their first thank-you. Set during 1.22. Bamon all the way but religiously canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"It's hard to recocile_  
 _What I've become_  
 _With the wounded child_  
 _Hiding deep inside_

_Breath underwater_  
 _I'm coming up for air_  
 _I wanna see another dawn_  
 _Coming up for the air_  
 _Sick of the slaughter_  
 _I'm coming up for air_  
 _'Cause I've been floating here too long_

_Take my ego for a ride_  
 _'Cause there's nobody by my side_  
 _It's getting hard to justify_  
 _And it won't be long 'till I collide "_

**_Breathe Underwater- Placebo_ **

**_  
_ **

He doesn't exactly understand how or why it has happened –or why he's not correcting the aberration-, but the switch is on more often than not lately.

He's feeling…things, human things he doesn't always understand or remember. It's often disorienting, exhilarating once upon a rare occasion.

He looks at Elena and sometimes he is not sure who he is looking at: Elena, or what he wishes Katherine could have been (although he loved Katherine for being Katherine, so how could he love Elena for not being _her_?).

He talks to Stefan, and there's something different from aggression and resentment lurking beneath his words.

He jokes around with the Sheriff and it's not always about the endgame.

Sometimes, lately he's just tired of being by himself. Damon knows he hungers for something, but he is no longer able to tell what-a purpose, a contact, a moment of freedom from everything heavy and bothersome.

So when he turns around, at the parade, and spots _her_ there, behind him, barely a moment after her scent has hit his senses, he remembers.

He remembers gripping her petite, breakable body and sinking his teeth into her soft throat, the heady flavor of her blood filling his mouth.

But mostly, he remembers chasing after her in that parking lot and how confused she was then. How her fear inebriated him as he breathed it in. Emily's appearance in her life had ruffled her feathers so much then that panic rose off from her dark skin in waves: he had enjoyed playing with it until it was nearly too much.

When he had put his hands on her face, the little witch had felt like a flutter of nerves and innocence under his fingertips. For a few seconds, he had been consumed with a sudden impulse to devour her.

To corrupt at once that naiveté that angered him so much, to stomp on the defiance flaring in her eyes until they were nothing but a memory.

The joke must be on him because now, as his gaze meets hers and Bonnie' s soft expression twists into something bitter and hard, he no longer sees that purity. There's strength and bravery and spirit, but there's also something else. A too-familiar darkness he senses screaming beneath the very surface of her. A roughness around the edges that lacked before, and he is the one who has put it there. For some reason, he can't look away from it. He can't switch the uneasiness coiling in his gut off.

"What do you want?"

"Just watching the parade."

Bonnie has every proper reason to hate his guts, so it shouldn't surprise him that she is turning her back on his bravado as fast as she can.

Yet…he can't let it go.

"Where are you going?"

His feet move, follow after her before he fully understands what he is doing.

Damon has never trusted witches, has never felt remotely guilty about tearing Bree's self-esteem to pieces. He is not sure he feels all that responsible over Sheila's death. But something about Bonnie Bennett's recent transformation ticks him off.

"Away from you."

 _Gee, really?_ "I want to say something to you."

"Just leave me alone." She snaps, too angry to be afraid of him anymore. It comes as a small comfort to Damon, although he fails to grasp why. He likes that she stands up to him.

"Thank you." It rushes out of his mouth before he changes his mind, because she deserves this much, at least, and he is not used to pointless niceties.

There's not a single shift in her features, but she stays quiet and her eyes hold his like it's a silent challenge to reveal some ulterior motive.

"The device that Emily spelled could have killed me. I don't take what you did lightly, so...Thank you."

Instead of loosening up, her gaze narrows, full of suspicion and pride. "I did it for Elena."

Yes, and Damon imagines it was the hardest thing Bonnie ever had to do, and she still did it, for Elena, despite the cost their friendship has already exacted. In her position, Damon would do the opposite. He would make sure that everyone would lose as much he had lost.

"I know, but I'm still very grateful."

He's not grateful because he values his life all that much, but because someone should be. Stefan and Elena have taken her assistance for granted, and why shouldn't they? They have gained her help.

He has not. There's nothing so aggravating as a pending debt, even if nobody expects you to pay it back.

"And…I owe you. " he adds, because talking is cheap and 'thank you' doesn't really mean much coming from someone you despise.

Seemingly unimpressed, Bonnie studies him with the cool composure of someone who doesn't really want to give up hostilities.

Her scrutiny leaves him feeling oddly exposed, and Damon can't avoid cringing a bit.

What does he expect from this, anyway?

"Enjoy the parade."

He says quickly, eager to get this done and over with, shrugging the twinge of nervousness away.

This is not like him at all.

And so Damon leaves, because the witch is not exactly giving him a reason to stay, and the situation is unnatural enough as it is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and now Bonnie's side of the story.

Wrapped in her golden dress, standing close to the man of her dreams, Elena Gilbert looks radiant. Glowing with the special happiness of young love.

Bonnie smiles back at her, genuinely.

She tries to focus on her best friend and how much she deserves this sliver of happiness rather than the pale, handsome vampire standing behind her. Stefan loves Elena and Bonnie wants to believe this makes him more of a man and not simply a better liar. She doesn't always manage it, lately. Lately it's easier to remember that Stefan had not helped Caroline until Elena was aware that their friend was in big trouble. It doesn't help that the image of his foaming mouth and hungry black eyes is among the most disquieting aspects of her return to Mystic Falls.

Yet, Bonnie wants to believe her first impression of Stefan was authentic and that her Grams is not dead only so that one more devil could live a few centuries more.

Even if, to be sincere, she really doesn't appreciate that Stefan has not lived up to his half of the bargain. If he had set on fire all tomb vampires as he had promised, or at least hunted them down once he knew they were free…Bonnie wouldn't be playing Judas.

But then, Stefan is a vampire too, it doesn't matter how nicely he behaves for Elena's benefit. He'll always be one of them…hopefully the romance will end before Elena is tempted to take the immortal plunge, too.

It might be good, if she ever had the choice.

Guilt slices her open at the thought, and Bonnie makes a conscious attempt to push the welling emotion deep down.

Done is done. Turn the Thinking Switch off, enjoy the parade -Bonnie coaches herself, concentrates on Elena's happy glow until she can feel it spreading to her like a sunlight-woven blanket.

Right until Elena's smile wavers, her chestnut-haired head shaking with fond annoyance as she darts a accomplice's glance to her boyfriend.

All because of Damon Salvatore, who is waving with supposedly flirty intent to his brother's girl. Bonnie senses the feeble empathic chord tying her to Elena falling down as her temper arises.

When Damon turns back, looking at her in a certain lingering purposefulness, making sure that she notices his attention, the witch is already frowning.

She despises everything about him. His goddamn smug smirk, his attitude, his piercing eyes.

Not to mention his murdering, mind-raping ways and his utter absence of a moral compass.

How could it be fair that her Grams was dead only so someone like him could live, and destroy more lives?

It is not right that some monster prances around flirting with her best friend while her grandmother is gone because of him. Because he had to find some evil bitch he just couldn't be without… before he discovered he could transfer his attentions onto a perfectly good lookalike.

Please Elena, don't let me have lost the closest thing I had to a mother only so you could play Vampire Sandwich. 

The bitter thought comes and goes, forgotten. It's easier to be angry than to be grieving, but Bonnie is ready to make the effort to heal herself now.

Why won't the leech stop looking at her? Isn't his good mood already enough of a slap in the face?

"What do you want?"

"Just watching the parade."

His deliberate affability offends her some more. It takes a lot of nerve, to try to act like they are on perfectly good terms.

But of course, the bastard is too cocky to ever pretend to have some guilt on her account.

Determined to not play along with his charade, Bonnie turns her back on him and tries to get somewhere the view of him won't remind her of all the reasons she will soon be minus of a surrogate sister.

'Tries' being the key word here, because he is immediately following in her wake, like he couldn't conceive his smarmy brand of charm had not worked its magic properly.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you."

"I want to say something to you."

Too bad she doesn't care in the least about anything he has to say. Still, to stop her failure of an escape and face him is her one option. It's stupid to try out-strutting a vampire.

"Just leave me alone." She snaps, because the last thing she needs now is one more threat from the likes of him.

One more reason to feed the greedy fury of hatred. 

Bonnie has never wanted to be this person. The kind who hates and waits for a vampire genocide without losing any sleep over it. Damon made her this way.

"Thank you." It rushes out of his mouth like he is afraid of his words. It shocks her, although she tries not to show it.

His lips twitch in an unusual display of nervousness, but the vampire goes on.

"The device that Emily spelled could have killed me. I don't take what you did lightly, so...Thank you."

"I did it for Elena." She remarks, nearly defensive, unable to stand that he would think otherwise.

"I know, but I'm still very grateful."

And there's something behind his eyes and his expression that shows a conflict. Like this is not what he means at all. Like what he really means is 'I'm sorry'.

There are many reasons she can't believe that.

"And…I owe you. " He adds, glancing at her like he expects to receive some sort of absolution.

Bonnie has none any to give.

So she keeps staring at him, staring at him hard, like another excuse or rhyme or reason for his behavior could jump out at her.

Damon cringes, looking the most genuinely human she has ever seen him, like a severely reprimanded child who won't give his mother the satisfaction of watching him getting antsy.

He gives her a little, almost embarrassed head-bow before leaving her behind.

"Enjoy the parade."

He says quickly, and Bonnie remains sighing in frustration at his retreating back.

She can't figure his motives out and it's the worst moment ever for second guesses, but...the doubt is there now.

What if there's an actual person underneath the beast? Can I live with this responsibility?


End file.
